Tugger
by Kailiata
Summary: Tease, Flirt, Bore. Son, Lover, Father. Liar, Coward, Heartbreaker.Disappointment, Waste of space, Womanizer. Protector, Leader, Friend. Thief, Killer, Cheat.   Rebel. I am the Rum Tum Tugger. This is my story.
1. Intro

Tease, Flirt, Bore

Son, Lover, Father.

Liar, Coward, Heartbreaker.

Disappointment, Waste of space, Womanizer.

Protector, Leader, Friend.

Thief, Killer, Cheat.

Rebel.

Give me whatever title you want.

I am the Rum Tum Tugger. This is my story.


	2. Fear

I wasn't born with the name you call me. My given name was much simpler, more regal and more suited to my situation and place in life. A place given to me by my family and a place I would never be able to fulfil. George. A name fit for a boring, upper class tom who would in be the perfect son for a Father like mine. A name for a leader, the eldest of the brothers, the next in line, heir. It was a name the already set out my future before me. And a name I would rebel against my entire life. My family were high up in the cat world. We were not royal or gentry, just hard working and ambitious. My Family ran in the circle of Aristocats, rubbing shoulders with the upper crust but at the same time not enjoying the many luxuries those cats took for granted. Whilst those house cats were simply bought into their lives of pampering and rich food, my Father had to work for his. He worked as a rat catcher in one of the most world renowned restaurants in London, keeping the store rooms safe from rats.

My mother was a beautiful Persian house cat belonging to one of the restaurant's most frequent visitors an old, half blind and pompous gentleman by the name of Todd. It was the smallest chance they could have met and an even smaller one that they would have fallen in love; but they did. My Father was adopted into her family and, although he still worked, he was treated just as the upper crust in cat society were and loved it.

My parents did not always see eye to eye. My mother, although she fought against it, could not help her natural instinct to be a snob. My father was over ambitious and eager to get to the top so often pushed himself and her too far. I suppose it was inevitable that I would be a part of their quest for status.

From the day I was born I was part of their plans. I was given the name George, a name that would fit right in with the 'Gilbert's' and 'Victoria's' of my planned future. So it was into this situation I was thrown. A small bundle of fur with ears that were too big for me and an out of control mane, born into the most ambitious family in London. Let's face it; there wasn't much hope for me.

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Fear is a strange emotion. It can knock you senseless or make you more alert in a second and you have no control over it. I could be over dramatic and say that all I remember of my kittenhood is fear but then I would be lying. There were parts of my kittenhood that I will treasure forever and parts that I wouldn't change for the world. But there were other, darker parts of my time as a kitten. Times when my parents forgot they were my parents, blinded by their need for power. It was these times when I really tasted fear. Even as a kitten I was wilful, stubborn and awkward, traits that no young kitten should have. I refused to submit to my father's overbearing nature and he hated it. I spent my fifth birthday locked in my room because I had disobeyed him one time too many.

My fifth birthday was a turning point in the way my parents treated me. I had worn my mother dry of patience and driven my father mad with frustration. I suppose I could see it as an achievement to have… beat them… as you could say but I do not see it as one. I saw it as a sign of my parent's weakness. They were blinded by what I could be in the future and forgot that they had to get me there first. My fifth birthday was when they realised that I may not be the perfect kitten they had dreamed of and they panicked. I know from experience it is hard to let a dream go. If you've thought and planned for something for so long, it seems so real you could almost touch it. It's near impossible to just forget about that dream when it was once so close. For my Father, I was that dream and there was no way he was about to let me go. My fifth birthday was the day I first tasted real fear but it was definitely not the last.

I had been sat in my room, muttering in that inaudible gibberish kittens seem to have and half-heartedly playing with my toys. It was supposed to be my birthday. I enjoyed being the centre of attention even then and I was upset that I had been denied this attention because I would not eat my food. It was another of my faults and probably still is. I was extremely fussy with my food and wouldn't eat anything if it wasn't exactly what I wanted. My mother would plead and my father would shout but I would sit, with a blank expression and refuse to touch the food in front of me. I had done this the day before and so, I was sat in my room alone on what should have been my birthday.

I was sat like I described when my father burst into my room. My instincts leapt into action as the fur on the back of my neck began to bristle and my back tensed. I looked up to see my father's dark figure silhouetted against the door. His face was dark, wearing an expression I had never seen before. Anger.

'George.' His voice was deep and gravelly as though he was struggling to keep from shouting.  
'Come here.'  
I was a stupid kitten because even when my instincts told me to obey, I ignored them and carried on playing with the toys in front of me.

'George.' He was closer now, I could sense his presence behind me but still I did not move. I felt his weight shift but it was only when I was lifted clean off the ground that I realised how close he was. His claws scratched me as he grabbed me roughly by the scruff of my neck and turned me to face him. My legs and arms dangled helplessly in the air, scrabbling for some kind of support. For the first time since he had entered, I looked at my father's expression and gulped. I was feeling the worst type of fear: The fear of the inevitable.

'Father… I...' How I managed to speak, I'll never understand but two words were all I managed before I flew. My father threw me across the room. I soared for a second before my back slammed into the wall and I collapsed in a heap. My father remained silent as he left which only made the terror more real. Looking back, I'm not sure what makes this event worse: The fact that my father threw a five year old kitten across a large room, into a wall and didn't even look back. Or the fact that my mother watched the entire scene and followed him out the door.

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	3. Pain

I suppose when you're reading this you're constantly analysing. My story may not seem plausible to you. You may be thinking 'This is ridiculous! Where's the Cheeky, flirtatious Tugger I love?' or maybe you're thinking that the whole story is a bit too out of character but what can I say? It was much later in my life when I became the Rum Tum Tugger, for the early years I was simply George, although it wasn't who I was.

Continuing on from where I left you: My life changed from that day onwards. The rules became simple. I obeyed my father and I lived happily or I disobeyed my father and faced the consequences. Unfortunately, as anyone who knows me reasonably well will be able to tell you, I have a habit of doing whatever people tell me not to do and not doing what people want me to do. This habit landed me in a lot of trouble with my father as it meant I disobeyed him more than I obeyed him. Which, as you can imagine, he didn't like. People often ask me why, when Macavity attacked I did not take part in the fight to protect the tribe. The truth is, when you've seen and experienced as much violence in your life as I have, you avoid violence whenever you can. The fight between Macavity and Munkustrap reminds me too much of… I'm getting ahead of myself.

Ambition can be a good thing. It can lead you to try your best and aim high. It can make you a better person. Or it can destroy you. My father was an ambitious tom and although he'll never admit it, I think that was one of the reasons he mated with my mother. She was a one way ticket to going up in the world and he took it. My father had unnatural determination and that showed in the way he kept his promises. Which for me, was not a good thing.

'George, I promise you that if you do not come here in the next three seconds you will get what's coming to you.'

And guess who didn't go to his father in the next three seconds? And so, that night I got what was coming to me: another beating. I had got into the habit of counting the blows as they hit me, my mind saw it as a way to block out the pain. Focus on what number you were on and push the pain to the back of your mind. Of course, occasionally my barrier broke down and the pain set in. When this happened I would crumple and scream as pain ripped through my small body. Ever wondered why I wear that scarf thing around my leg? To hide the huge scar that reaches all the way round from when my father's claws went too deep. Pain became a part of my everyday life and although you could say I brought it on myself, I don't think broken bones are a suitable punishment for being late for dinner. I plodded through each day with a steady, painful rhythm, hoping from one day to the next that the next beating wouldn't be as hard as the last. By the time I had reached my sixth birthday, my fight had left me. I became submissive and brainless, going against my own decisions and obeying my father but still he hit me. He found his work frustrating and he often took it out on me. I was his own private punch bag and I accepted it. I bet you're finding it hard to imagine. The over confident Tugger, a small scared little kitten, getting beaten up every night and not fighting back. It's almost laughable.

But I was a scared little kitten and every night I would get down on my knees and pray to the everlasting cat. I prayed that he would make my father happy again so he wouldn't hit me, I prayed that my body would stop hurting whenever I moved and I prayed that one day I could escape my family. In a strange way, a month after my sixth birthday, one of my prayers was half answered.

My sister was adopted. My parents had decided they weren't going to take any risks after what happened with me. They went and chose their daughter: A beautiful bouncing queen with huge green eyes that seemed to see everything at once. She was already four years old and perfectly behaved. My father adored her so for a while I was free. Little did I know he was still plotting.

Less than a month after my sister's arrival, I was sent away to 'school'. A place where I could learn how to be a good house cat. The building was a huge warehouse which seemed to have no way out. We were taught how to get our owners attention and play on their emotions as well as what was good and what was bad. By the end of the first week I was bored to tears and begging to go home but all in vain. My sister, Adicia was the new favourite now. I just needed to be kept out of the way.

And I was kept out of the way with extreme skill. I only ever returned home for holidays and even them I was pushed to the back of my parent's attentions. However, this was exactly what I wanted. Being ignored meant I could do the things I wanted to and get on with my life. I had friends at my school and as I grew older, my confidence grew back up to what it once had been. When I was home I could do what I want and my parents ignored me. The only time I was required to behave myself was if we were entertaining. My days at school went by. It was like living in a monastery; the same things over and over again without any breaks yet I was never glad when it was time to go home.

Yet it was one of these home visits when my life was turned upside down once again and it was all thanks to my mother's friend and her daughter.

I was fifteen years old and growing up fast; much faster than my father would of liked. It was becoming clear that he wouldn't be able to control me for much longer and I could see in the way he looked at me that it scared him. Our entire family including the guests were sat together talking when my sister entered. It was true she was very beautiful and I admit I despised her. She was everything I was not and I hated her because of it. She sauntered in, putting on a show for everyone. Gestured to by my mother, I stood up and began offering some snacks round. When I was done, I grabbed the largest snack left on the tray and sat down with about as much grace as a hippopotamus. I was about to throw the snack in the air and try and catch it in my mouth, much to the amusement of the young queen next to me, when my mothers friend called me over to her. I shuffled to her side, trying not to squirm as her thin paws cupped my chin.

'Look at me, tom.' I let my eyes meet hers and gulped. There was an almost hungry look in her eyes that made me feel uncomfortable. She nodded and I returned to my seat. I then proceeded to toss the snack in my paw into the air and catch it in my mouth, exactly as I had intended to do a few moments earlier.

'He'll be quite a catch for a young queen in a couple of years.'  
I almost choked on the food I was eating. You practically saw the light bulbs above my parent's heads as the ideas began to form.

'You really think so?' My father asked, his scheming mind working. He paused and then looked at me. 'George, why don't you show Lyssa around the house?' I chuckled to myself. They wanted to talk about me so they needed to get me out of the room first.

'I'll do it!' My sister's high-pitched voice rang through the entire room and bounced off the walls.

'No.' I stood up, walked over to where Lyssa was sitting and extended my paw for her to take winking as she looked at me in shock. 'I'll do it.' I laughed inside as I saw her blush. This tour was going to be more fun than I thought.

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	4. Power

Have I ever been in love? That's one of those questions they always ask in interviews. It's either that or 'Who was your first kiss?' or 'Who was your first crush?'

The answer to that question. Yes I have been in love although it isn't a part of my life I like to remember. I can deal with physical pain but not emotional pain. The only thing I can do is forget about it completely. But love is a hard thing to forget.

You could probably say that this house tour was the birth of the Rum Tum Tugger side of me. My father wasn't the only one with ideas. I had a few of my own and I planned to act on them straight away. The words of my mother's friend had made me think. Why in a few years?

'So… your name's Lyssa?' I wasn't really sure where I was walking but that wasn't really my main priority.

'Yes.' She smiled shyly to herself, not looking me in the eye.

'It's pretty.' I stopped for a moment, waiting for her to catch up. 'Keep up! It's a big house.' I tilted her chin so she was looking me in the eye. 'There's plenty of places to get lost.' And there she was. Like a rabbit in the headlights of an oncoming car, frozen and hypnotised.

You probably think I was being manipulative and cruel and that I was taking advantage of her but it wasn't like that. True, I was taking advantage of her but I was experimenting. I wasn't going to do anything wrong, I just wanted to see what effect I had on her.

I winked, grinning. 'Come on, there's lots more to see down here.'

And so the tour went on, every now and again I would try another trick and see what she did. Yes, it was probably cruel but, if I'm honest. I don't think she minded it.

Did I kiss her? No. It didn't go beyond flirting and messing with her mind.

When we finally returned to the room where my family were sat, Lyssa had recovered.

'Did you have a good tour?' My mother asked. She wasn't really interested in the answer; she just needed to acknowledge that we had entered the room.

'Yes.' Lyssa was slightly out of breath as she answered. 'It was very interesting.'

I managed to keep a straight face, hiding my laughter. It seemed to fool everyone apart from Lyssa's mother. She was looking at me in a way that made me feel as though she understood me completely.

We said our goodbyes and as I kissed the air above Lyssa'a paw she giggled. Her mother noticed this and looked me in the eye, nodding. With a quick swish of her paw she handed my mother a small piece of paper.

'I would like to invite you all to a party next week. Bring George and Adicia early. Adicia and Lyssa can get ready together. I think they'd like that.' My mother nodded, you could see inside she was jumping for joy. This was exactly the break she was looking for and evidently why she had befriended this queen.

'I look forward to seeing you there.' And with a swift nod, she and Lyssa were gone.

It was barely a few seconds before all hell broke loose. My sister was jumping about like a crazed kangaroo and my mother had a ridiculously dreamy expression on her face. I just sighed.

'I think I'm going to go to my room.'

Left alone in my room I could finally start to think over what had happened that day. With one sentence I had gone from being invisible to my parents, to suddenly in the limelight again. Once again I was going to be used as a puppet in their quest for power. But, as you know, I am a rebel and I would fight back. They could force me to the parties and make me act civilised when they were around but, as proved by the tour, out of their reach I had my own power. And by the everlasting cat, I was going to use it.

* * *

We arrived at the house a few hours before the party, as we were instructed. Adicia was leaping about like a possessed frog at the prospect of her first party. I, on the other hand, felt uncomfortable. My mother's friend, who I had decided at that point, I must find out the name of, hadn't said why she wanted me to come early.

The door clicked open and I gulped. The maid looked from my sister to me and eventually told my sister to go upstairs and gave her directions to Lyssa's room.

She then walked over to a door next to her and gestured for me to enter. My eyes met hers for a second. She looked back with a kind of curiosity which was soon replaced by fear. Of course, she was a maid, it was considered rude for her to look me in the eye. Inside I sighed; I would never get the hang of this life.

'Ah, George.' a queen's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

'Have a seat.'

I wandered in hesitantly and perched on the seat she gestured to. I sat impatiently, waiting for her to speak. The silence hovering around the room was unbearable. Eventually, she spoke.

'Do you know George, I've always wanted a son.' Her words were spoken slowly, as though she was choosing each one carefully before it left her lips.

'But after Lyssa, we found out that there would be no more kittens for us. I love Lyssa dearly but all the same...' She paused and changed the subject hastily. 'Now you may have noticed after my visit last week that I notice things. I look beneath the surface and discover things that other people often ignore and do you want to know what I've noticed about you?'

I just shrugged and muttered something.

'You're unhappy and you don't fit in with your family.'

I couldn't say anything. She was right and I wasn't about to deny it.

'So I've hit the nail on the head?' I nodded half-heartedly.

'I know from talking to your mother that you were sent away to school. Well you are not returning to that school. Instead, I have persuaded your mother that it would be wiser for you to have different lessons… Ones that you may enjoy more.'

She was watching me carefully, her dark eyes following and studying my every move.

'I have also suggested to your mother that you stay here whilst you are…' She paused, emphasising her next word in a way that puzzled me. 'Studying. I can follow through on that suggestion but I have one condition.'

I nodded, staying away from home seemed to be worth anything.

'You stay away from Lyssa. I don't want you messing up her head. There's little in there to begin with and to be honest, she's definitely not the queen for you.'

As if on cue, Lyssa and Adicia walked in.

The older queen's mood changed completely.

'And now, George dear, I think It's time you got ready for the party.'

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**Not the most exciting or chapters I know but oh well... Thank you for the reviews x**


	5. Love

Back to the question at the start of the last chapter. Tugger in love? It's a strange thought isn't it? I used to think so too. After all, when I first met her I was only fifteen. How was I to know she would completely steal my heart and never give it back?

It's quite funny really; whenever a queen calls me heartless, her face appears in my mind and I just think to myself 'If you only knew who has my heart.' So I suppose you could say I am really heartless, since another queen actually has it.

I bet you're wondering who it is. I think I'll just leave you guessing for now and get on with telling you about my first party.

I'm not going to be big headed and say I was the best looking tom at that party but let's just say, when I entered the room, I turned a lot of heads. I may have looked confident but inside I was terrified. I had no idea what to do. My mother had spent the last week desperately trying to teach me to dance so I'd be ready but it had failed miserably. Awkwardly, I walked over to where the refreshments were being served and got myself a drink. Leaning against the wall, I watched the cat's as they danced. It was graceful but to be frank, it was boring and definitely not my style.

'Not your thing eh, handsome?' I turned to my right to see where the voice was coming from. It was a tall, elegant queen with dark, reddish-brown markings. She smiled at me, leaning casually on the wall behind us. She clearly didn't fit in with the stiff backed bunch in the room either.

'Not exactly what I'd call fun either but I have to put up with it for my parents sake. I'm Pudicitia by the way.'

'George' I replied, shaking her hand.

'George…' She mused over the name for a moment. 'You don't look like a George at all.'

'I don't feel like one either.' I replied, making her laugh.

'Yeah? well you wouldn't be the only one who doesn't fit into the name they were given. Pudicitia: the Roman goddess of chastity and modesty and believe me, I don't fit that name at all.' She winked smiling. As the music stopped she stood up as if to move.

'Better prepare yourself pretty-boy, the giggle brigade approach.' She began to walk away only turning back to whisper in my ear. 'Come and find me if they begin to drive you insane.'

Sure enough, as soon as she had left I was surrounded by the 'giggle brigade' led by my sister.

'This is my brother, George.' This announcement was met by a wave of giggles.

'George! Say hello to my friends!'

I rolled my eyes, forced a smile and greeted them. Another wave of giggles.

'George…' My sister had adopted a new way of whining out my name and it was getting increasingly annoying every time she said it. 'Jemmie wanted to know if you'd dance with her?'

In a final wave of giggles, 'Jemmie' was pushed forwards. She was a small queen with a certain quietness about her that was extremely welcome after the over confident queens I had endured already that evening. There was something about her that I couldn't put my finger on. She just seemed so fragile. Gently I tilted her chin up so she was looking at me. I had to take a breath in suddenly. She was unbelievably beautiful with huge eyes the colour of chocolate. As I asked her if she would like to dance with me a smile spread across her face that made me feel as if the whole room had lit up suddenly. She nodded slightly and as I took her hand, I could almost feel the excitement radiating off her tiny body.

I danced with her until it was time for the entire giggles brigade to go to bed. They were all going to be staying with Lyssa for the night, so their parents could stay longer at the party. To say goodbye I simply kissed her paw, smiling as her cheeks blushed an attractive shade of pink.

As she ran off to join her friends I went to find Pudicitia. She was leaning on the wall where she had been before, watching the giggles brigade as they left.

'Well then, handsome, I had no idea you could be such a charmer!' She smiled as she saw me approaching. 'It was wonderful what you did, I swear I saw her mother crying.'

I was puzzled at her comments, all I did was dance? 'What? why?'

She sighed, fiddling awkwardly with her paws.

'Jemima's sick, Very sick. She's mute, George and that's just the start of her problems. She was lucky to be here tonight and most toms stay away from her because of her illness. I suppose they're narrow-minded enough to think of they spend enough time with a cat who can't speak, they'll stop being able to speak too.' Looking at my face she gasped. 'You really didn't know?'

I shook my head, completely shocked. I hadn't even noticed that she hadn't spoken once in the entire time we'd been dancing.

'Why did you dance with her then?'

I smiled, remembering her expression when I asked her to dance. 'I just wanted to make her happy.'

I suppose you're thinking that she's the queen I fell in love with and in away you'd be right. I did love Jemmie but not in the way you're thinking. I wasn't IN love with her, I just loved her.

After that party I was exhausted, I said goodnight to my mother's friend and kicked myself again for not finding out what her name was. I made my way up to my room and walked in, just in time to hear a small voice gasp and see a figure scurry towards an open passageway. Without thinking, I grabbed it's arm, spinning it round to see who was in my room at this time of night. It was the maid who's opened the door for me that afternoon. I rose one eyebrow questioningly as she began to splutter out an explanation.

'I'm sorry… I just forgot something when… I was in here… cleaning… and I needed… to come back and… get it….' Her expression was so panicked I had to laugh.

'Shhhhh!' I said letting go of her wrist. 'I'm not going to kill you for forgetting something. Now for pollicle's sake, go to bed! You must be exhausted.' I smiled as she began to leave. 'What's your name?'

She turned before disappearing into the darkness.

'Leda'


End file.
